Revenge is sweet with a bitter aftertaste
by tearbos
Summary: An unsub comes after Reid to prevent him from investigating his role in a series of murders. This is a bit darker than my usual, and the T rating is probably necessary for the third and fifth chapters.
1. A wound of the mind

**Author's note: This fic changes time and point of view a few times. I've tried to make it very easy to follow, so I hope no one gets confused. This first chapter starts in what will be the present.**

**Disclaimer: Even though I shamelessly stole the chapter title from "The Fisherking" part 1, I own no part of the CM empire.**

**_A wound of the mind_**

Alex let his eyes scan the darkened street around him as he sipped slowly on his third cup of coffee. He never imagined that his stakeout would take this long. He glanced at his watch again- 3 hours so far.

_What could be taking so long? They should have gotten back hours ago._

He let out a deep sigh and continued watching for his prey to arrive home. Alex would make him pay for what happened this morning. Certainly, Adrian had been foolish, waiting around for the FBI to show up at his house. Alex tried to warn him not to mess up their carefully laid plans, but Dre always gave himself more credit than was due. This time it had cost Dre his freedom and Alex his partner in crime.

Now Alex's hand was forced. He'd never intended to get anywhere near the police, but Dre's untimely capture changed the situation drastically. It wouldn't take the FBI long to connect Dre to Alex if they felt a reason to look closer, so Alex had to eliminate the only person that suspected a team effort- Spencer Reid. The FBI's pet genius had proclaimed all week he thought there were two suspects, but with no substantial evidence to back him up, he was overridden by the other agents. Alex kept close watch on the developments of the case, and was relieved that after Dre's arrest, the case seemed closed. He knew for certain that Adrian wouldn't give him up, and he was willing to let Dre take the fall for his own stupidity. He worried though, that the kid with the badge would keep running his mouth, and they'd be forced to investigate further. Alex had worked too hard to let that happen.

His mind wandered over the various exploits he and Adrian carried out over the past year. So many good times, but he still felt the actual abductions were the most fun. Adrian really enjoyed the torture and killing, but for Alex, the planning, organizing, and executing was the most enjoyable part of their joint ventures. There was nothing like the adrenaline rush felt from grabbing someone when they least expect it and have no idea what is happening.

A smile graced his face as he thought back to their last victims, a gorgeous pair, twins, brother and sister.

_Such fun… Family affairs are always interesting. _

His smile broadened at the memory of the pain each sibling felt watching the other suffer. He still thought it was a shame that the sister died first; she'd been his pick after all. Adrian decided to get her brother as an afterthought to up the fun. Alex wasn't sure if the boy had lived or not; he couldn't risk hanging around the police station any longer than he had to find out. Not that he cared; he just wanted to know if their effort had been wasted.

Alex stretched his arms out to lessen the tension in them. He glanced around the street again, and, seeing nothing, decided to lean the seat back some. His head had barely hit the seat when he heard a vehicle approaching. He waited a moment before sitting up. He felt his pulse rate increase slightly as the small SUV stopped at the apartment building he'd been watching. A familiar figure exited the driver's side.

_Derek Morgan? What on earth is he doing here? This could ruin everything!_

He felt despair as he watched Agent Morgan open the passenger door and assist Agent Reid out.

_Wait-is he injured? I didn't hear about that! This could work in my favor as long as Agent Morgan doesn't stick around. _

Alex knew better than to think he could take on two FBI agents at once. He watched anxiously as the two agents walked slowly into the apartment building, Agent Morgan supporting Agent Reid. Alex leaned back in his seat again.

_He has to leave sometime. I might as well wait here until the time is right._


	2. To make matters worse

**Author's note: This chapter (and most of the following ones) take place before the first chapter. The hours referenced refer to when events happened in relation to the first chapter. I hope this makes sense.**

**Of course, only the OCs are mine.

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**

_**To make matter worse**_

**15 hours previous**

**The BAU team, along with local police, surrounded the small house. The crisp, pre-dawn air chilled them as they awaited the signal to enter. A week and a half chasing a serial rapist/murderer finally led to the address of Adrian Matthews. He fit the profile, his uncorroborated alibi fit the timeline, and physical evidence confirmed that he was indeed the Unsub. Now all they had to do was find him…**

"**We go in on my count," Hotch instructed in a firm whisper. He counted off silently, and then motioned for Morgan to kick down the door. "FBI!" The shout echoed in the quiet morning air as the side and back doors were forcefully entered simultaneously. The BAU and police offices swarmed the house, separating and searching every square foot. Emily and SWAT members hurried to the garage. Morgan, Reid, and several officers went down the short hallway, while Hotch, Rossi, and other officers moved toward the living room and kitchen.**

**While the officers searched the two small bedrooms, Morgan and Reid checked the tiny bathroom and linen closet. As they headed back down the hall, they noticed a water heater closet they'd missed in their hurried run. Morgan stood to the side and motioned for Reid to open it. Reid cautiously opened the door, holding his gun and flashlight at the ready. The door opened barely two inches before Reid stumbled back, shock registering on his face; he was too startled to even scream. A serrated, long-handled kitchen knife was sticking out of his left shoulder just below his collarbone.**

**Morgan immediately jumped forward and pulled the door open further, raising his gun higher at the figure crouched next to the large appliance.**

"**Hold it right there." Morgan's voice was hard and icy. Adrian stared at him with cold, unimpressed eyes. "Put your hands in the air and come out slowly." Adrian didn't budge. "I said move!" **

**Morgan reached out to grab Adrian by the shirt. Adrian seized Morgan's wrist and twisted, pulling him down and ruining any chance he had at taking a clean shot. Before Morgan could adjust to his change of position, Adrian hit him hard between the eyes, knocking him back against the opposite wall. **

**He stood, dazed momentarily, as Adrian leapt from the closet toward Reid, who was leaned against the wall near the closet. Blood gushed from his shoulder, ran down his arm, and dripped off the tips of his fingers into a crimson puddle on the floor. **

**Reid moved out of his reach, but not before Adrian bumped into him, pushing the knife deeper. Reid couldn't suppress his gasp of pain. Adrian brushed past him and ran down the hall. Morgan tried to focus his eyes to take a shot when the sound of gunfire jolted him. He looked up to see Adrian hit the floor with a bullet wound to his thigh, and Reid slid down the wall, leaving a bright red streak of blood on the dirty white surface. Smoke trailed from his gun barrel. **

**The sound shouting and running filled the air as Morgan ran to Reid, who was breathing heavily and clenching his eyes shut. The officers ran from the bedroom, and Morgan pointed them to Adrian. They shoved his face into the ground and roughly cuffed his wrists. Once he was secured, they dragged him to his feet and pulled him outside to the waiting cars.**

"**Oh, man Reid!" He knelt on the floor next to him and debated putting pressure on the wound versus pulling out the knife. He decided to leave the medical treatment to the professionals, who had undoubtedly been called at the sound of gunfire. Reid looked like he was about to pass out, so Morgan pulled him forward and rested Reid's head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around Reid to hold him in place.**

"**Just hang in there man, it'll be ok. Just a few minutes ok?" Reid nodded slightly against Morgan's shoulder.**

**Just then, Hotch, Rossi and the other officers rounded the corner. "What happened?" Hotch demanded as he slid to his knees next to Reid.**

"**He got the jump on us; we didn't even know what hit us." Morgan's voice was filled with guilt and disappointment.**

**Hotch nodded, giving Morgan a sympathetic look. He then gently touched Reid's blood-soaked arm to get his attention. Reid turned his head and looked at Hotch with glazed, pained eyes.**

"**It's ok, Reid," he said soothingly. "The medics are already on the way." Reid just nodded.**

"**Who shot Adrian?" Rossi asked as he came closer to where the trio was kneeling.**

"**He did," Morgan said, patting Reid affectionately on the back of his head.**

"**Really," both Hotch and Rossi said simultaneously, Hotch out of pride and Rossi out of surprise.**

"**Yep... He never even saw it coming." Morgan's voice gushed with pride. Reid smiled slightly against Morgan.**

"**Well, I had to do something; you were just standing there." Reid's voice was muffled in Morgan's shirt, but the light teasing tone helped ease the tension surrounding the team members.**

"**Yeah, whatever kid," Morgan said with a small grin as he ruffled Reid's hair.**

**Just then, the paramedics pushed through the crowd of officers. They quickly approached their patient. Morgan thought he would have to move, but the medics didn't force him away. Instead, the medic whose badge read "Phillip" knelt on the floor near the three team members and carefully inspected Reid's shoulder. Reid winced at the touch and unconsciously pulled away. **

**Phillip looked to Morgan and gently asked, "Can you try to hold him still for me?"**

"**Sure," Morgan replied hesitantly, as he pulled Reid closer and tightened his grip.**

**After another moment, Phillip stood up and addressed the group. "Ok, it doesn't actually look too bad. I'm not going to pull the blade out now though. We'll just keep it steady for the ride, and then the surgeon can remove it without doing further damage. We can't risk hitting any veins until we get to the hospital."**

**With that, Phillip and his partner Galen carefully moved Reid away from Morgan and lowered him onto a back board. They then gently transferred him to a stretcher and slowly rolled him outside. The team members trailed behind.**

**Morgan walked next to Hotch and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You know, it's always nice to know you'll get dirty for us."**

**Hotch turned to him with a question in his eye. Morgan pointed down to his own jeans, and then indicated Hotch's dress pants. Both were stained dark red from the blood collected on the hallway floor. Hotch gave him a slight smile and nod before he continued watching the medics load Reid into the ambulance.**

**Rossi joined them after checking on Adrian's condition. "Are you going to ride with him?" The question was obviously directed to Hotch, who uncharacteristically shrugged.**

"**I don't know if there's room." Morgan and Rossi exchanged glances at Hotch's unusually hesitant tone. He didn't look at either of them, so they surmised that guilt was hidden behind his tone.**

"**Why don't you go find out Aaron?" Rossi spoke gently and touched Hotch's shoulder to catch his attention. After a moment, Hotch turned and met Rossi's eyes. He nodded and walked over to the ambulance.**

**Ever in control, Rossi turned to Morgan, who was staring blankly in Reid and Hotch's direction. "Why don't you go find Emily, and I'll get the car so we can follow them."**

**Morgan looked at him for a moment uncomprehendingly, and then he obeyed the order.**


	3. Pleasure for your pain

**Author's note: I stuck a toe over onto the dark side with this chapter. It's not too graphic, but I'm issuing fair warning anyway. If you're sensitive you might want to skip over the second paragraph. The same format as before for the timeline applies to this chapter.**

**I only own Alex and Adrian, but I'm not so sure that's a good thing.**

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_Pleasure for your pain_

**20 hours previous**

Alex sat down on the step leading to the garage and watched Adrian play with his latest toys, well, just one toy left now that the girl was dead. _Such a pity; she was really cute. _He couldn't help but match the joyous smile on his baby brother's face. Adrian really got a kick out of hearing people scream. Alex didn't really get it, but he loved to indulge his brother's quirky hobbies.

The cries of pain echoed off of the soundproof walls, growing louder with each wave of Adrian's well-sharpened filet knife. The blood ran in crimson streams down the peachy flesh into the rusted drain in the center of the tiled floor. _At least he's keeping the blood confined to the tile this time. It'll make the clean-up easier. _His eyes wandered to the far side of the garage where the girl's skinless body was still chained to the wall. Her mouth was frozen open in a permanent scream of pain from the saltwater Adrian had tossed onto the raw muscles. Alex had to admit that his brother knew his craft well; he managed to take the skin off in one piece that preserved nicely once cured and stored.

He looked up at his brother's excited laugh and noticed the boy had stopped screaming. Adrian was lifting several tool and chemicals, trying to determine which would be best to force the boy back to consciousness. Alex shook his head in amusement and decided now was a good time to interrupt.

"Dre," he called loudly. When his brother looked up with a predatory grin, he smiled back. "Looks like you're having fun there bro, but I think we better call it quits."

Adrian's smile dropped instantly and a cloud of anger and disappointment settled on his features. "Why?" he questioned petulantly.

"Sorry kid, but it looks like the cops are catching on," he replied wistfully. "James has been keeping tabs for me, and he says they have narrowed down a profile that can track back to us."

"A profile," Adrian huffed disdainfully. "Those profilers will never find us. We've played this too smart. A profile." With that Adrian turned back to his workbench.

"I'm serious Dre, they are getting close. We need to clear things up here and get on the road before we lose our advantage."

"Don't worry Al, they aren't coming here. You planned this remember? They won't figure it out. Relax, man."

"Listen Dre, I'm not playing around. We need to go."

"Then you go. Pack your things and head to the cabin. I'll meet you there when I've finished up."

"Do you hear yourself? The cabin? You don't think they'll look there once they figure out we're involved? Man, it's a good thing I do the planning bro."

"Yeah, whatever Al. Just go if you want to and leave me alone. You'll see-this whole thing will blow past and we'll be in the clear."

"How do you figure that?"

"Because we were careful, we didn't leave clues behind, and you are the genius master planner." Adrian flashed him a brilliant grin, but Alex just glared.

"Listen Dre, I paid James a lot of money to keep tabs on the investigation for me, and he's warned us to get out while we can. I'm taking him on that advice and I strongly suggest you do the same."

"Alex do you hear what you're saying? You're being a total wuss and a baby. Just let me stay here a bit longer and then we can get out of dodge."

"I'm telling you, we don't have much time. James estimated 5-8 hours max. We need to be well on our way by then."

"5-8 hours is plenty of time. You can give me one or two more."

"No Dre I can't. I'm out of here. I'm going to James' penthouse. Meet me there if you haven't been arrested."

"Fine bro, whatever. Now will you go so I can have some fun around here?"

"Sure Dre I'll leave. Just remember what I said and get out of here soon ok?"

"All right, I will. I'll meet you at the penthouse in a few hours."

"Ok then." Alex stood and walked into the house to collect his things. He mentally congratulated himself for the safety precautions he'd taken without Adrian knowing. When the police did show up, they wouldn't find any traces of him in the house. His different last name, separate financial records, and forged documents severed any trace to his less intelligent baby brother. Not that he savored the idea of throwing his brother to the wolves, but if Adrian wasn't smart enough to cover his back that wasn't Alex's fault. _Sorry bro, but I won't go down for this. You should have listened to me. _


	4. Comfortably numb

**Author's note: The same timeline format as the previous chapter applies here. **

Comfortably Numb

**Five Hours Previous**

Morgan leaned against the wall in the emergency room corridor, tapping his foot impatiently as he waited for the doctor to come out. He'd been at the hospital for nearly ten hours now, and he was eager to head home. Reid was being released any minute…

_As soon as the doctor gets a move on…_

There wasn't much love lost between Dr. Richards and Morgan, mostly due to Derek's slightly irrational, panicked behavior when he first arrived at the hospital. Hotch had finally sent him to the cafeteria to get lunch for the team while they waited, with strict instructions to not return until he could avoid punching any walls or medical staff.

Once the team learned that Reid would be just fine and cleared to leave that evening, they scattered to tie up loose ends at the police station and gather things from the hotel. Morgan insisted on staying to wait in case Reid needed something or the doctor had any questions or instructions. After a brief lecture and a firm look, Hotch agreed to let him stay while the others collected his and Reid's belongings.

Fortunately Reid's injury hadn't required surgery, but Dr. Richards want to observe him for a while and get some fluids in him to help replace the lost blood volume. Once satisfied that Reid retained full mobility and had minimal swelling, the doctor decided he could leave on the condition that he took it easy for a while and followed up with his regular doctor within a week.

Now Morgan hovered near the curtained entrance to Reid's room, waiting for Reid to finish dressing in a set of scrubs and get a final once-over from the doctor. Finally the curtain opened and Dr. Richards motioned for Morgan to come in. Reid's left arm was in a sling to keep weight off of his shoulder-which sported several bandages that bulged under the scrub top. He still looked tired, but at least he was less pale than before when he nearly sent Morgan into a panic attack. He gave Morgan a small smile as Dr. Richards handed him a packet of paperwork.

"Here are his release papers and instructions, along with a prescription and follow-up visit forms. That should cover everything, and you both remember what I told you?"

Both Reid and Morgan nodded.

"Ok then, I'll send Becky in with a wheelchair and you can be on your way. I wish you well Spencer, and please call me if you have any problems or questions. My number is on the paperwork."

"Thank you, Dr. Richards."

"No problem." He nodded at Morgan on his way out, who tipped his head in response.

"All right man, are you ready to go?" Morgan picked up the small bag containing Reid's wallet, gun, badge, and keys sitting on the sink next to the bed.

"Yes, let's get out of here." Reid stood up, and wobbled a bit. Morgan grabbed his elbow gently to steady him. "I guess the painkillers are getting to me," he said with laughter in his voice.

_Well that's obvious_! Morgan thought, amused at the slightly giddy genius.

"Good, that means you'll sleep on the jet and not be whiny and mopey."

"Hey, I haven't whined once!" His giggly, slightly slurred tone didn't convey the indignance he tried to show.

Becky arrived with the wheelchair and Morgan led Reid over with only two stumbles along the way. The trio made it to the borrowed SUV without any problems. Morgan settled Reid securely in the passenger seat and climbed into the driver's seat. He pulled out of the hospital parking lot and began the journey to the airport. A few minutes into the ride, Morgan glanced over at the unusually quiet Reid and had to stifle a laugh. He was already fast asleep.

The drive to the airport was uneventful. Reid barely stirred. The team members were waiting for him as he exited the SUV and handed the keys to Agent Lewis from the local FBI office.

"How is he," Rossi asked, as JJ and Emily tried to see in through the dark tinted windows? Hotch didn't wait for Morgan's answer as he went to the passenger door and opened it carefully. The team members all noticed the small smile that graced Hotch's face when he saw Reid sleeping peacefully.

"Did he sleep the whole trip?" Hotch looked through the open driver's door at see Morgan, who nodded in response.

"He didn't even make it out of the parking lot! It was the quietest thirty minutes I've ever spent with him."

They all laughed at the thought of a quiet trip with Reid. Those were few and far between.

"Reid? Reid, we're here. Wake up," Hotch called softly as he gently tapped Reid's good shoulder.

"Dr. Richards gave him enough painkillers to last for the flight. I'm not sure you can get him up." Morgan barely kept the laughter out of his voice.

"Reid," Hotch tried again. He received a soft, unintelligible mumble and a flutter of eyelids in response. "He's out of it, all right. Do you have anything else in here Morgan?"

"Just this," he replied as he handed the small bag to Emily.

"Ok, I'll carry him. Come over and close the door behind me." Hotch's order was firm, but the smile in his eyes was apparent to all the team members. "JJ, go get the couch ready for him please."

"Sure Hotch," she replied, and she and Emily walked toward the jet.

Hotch reached around to unbuckle the seat belt, and then he carefully lifted Reid while trying to avoid jostling the injured shoulder. Morgan helped him adjust Reid's position, closed the door to the SUV, and walked next to Hotch as the three of them went to the jet where Rossi was waiting ahead of them.

Once Reid was securely ensconced on the couch, Morgan plopped down on the chair nearby, exhaustion catching up with him quickly now that he could relax. After taking a moment to settle himself, he turned slightly toward the others.

"How did things go at the station?"

"Pretty well," Emily replied from behind her book.

"Did the kid give up any information?"

"He couldn't stop singing his own praises," Rossi answered with more than a little sarcasm. "He confessed to all of the murders, even gave us details we didn't realize."

"But no mention of a partner," Morgan wanted to know?

"Oh no, he was more than happy to take all of the credit," Hotch joined the conversation as he worked on typing his report.

"Hmm," Morgan responded as he straightened back in his seat. "Sorry Reid, I guess you were wrong for once," he said with a small grin in his friend's direction.

"Maybe we should record this on the calendar," JJ added as she sifted through the files on her lap. The others laughed in agreement.

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	5. The consequence at hand

**Author's note: I apologize for the wait on this chapter. I had a few kinks to work out, but I think everything is ok now. I admit that writing Alex and Adrian brings out my dark side, so there is a small warning on this chapter too. It's not too gruesome, but I just want you to be prepared.**

The consequence at hand

**Ten hours previous**

Alex paced the living room of the spacious penthouse glaring at the tiny cell phone in his hand. He debated throwing it against the far wall but decided that wasn't the most productive use of his time right now. He lifted his eyes from the phone and allowed them explored the luxurious space with slight amazement. His friend James made a daytime living as a cop, but at night he earned extra money from the people he met during the course of arrests. The city PD salary certainly hadn't paid for a penthouse of this caliber, with its expensive furnishings, exquisite artwork, and ostentatious gold detailing.

He sighed in frustration. _We could have had a place like this too. If we hadn't spent most of the inheritance on Adrian's hobby…_

His mind drifted back to when he first recognized Adrian's developing hobby, almost nine years ago: He was seventeen, and he came home from school looking for his thirteen-year-old brother. He finally found Dre behind the shed with the mutilated remains of the family's cat. He'd stared in shock for a few moments as he watched Adrian crudely dissect the animal. It wasn't unusual to see Dre cooking insects on the sidewalk with a magnifying glass, or throwing rocks at birds until they were injured and then plucking their feathers, or spearing the neighborhood fish and laying them to suffocate on the sidewalk. But this level of brutality was something he hadn't expected to see. He'd hurriedly intervened and helped Dre clean up the mess before their parents got home. He never told anyone what he saw, and the family suffered the loss of nearly a dozen more pets to "mysterious causes" or illness.

_I can't believe how long I've been covering for the little twerp, and he repays me by getting himself caught and risking all of my hard work! He better be glad that he's in police custody right now._

He thought about how found out Adrian had graduated to killing people: He came home to the house they'd inherited nearly four years ago. His brother wasn't home yet from work, so he lay down on the couch to relax. He awoke with a start hours later to a horrendous odor coming from the garage. Dre spent almost all of his free time out there working on "crafts" as he called it, and Alex never wanted, or needed, to investigate any further. The smell was enough to warrant his attention now though. He unlocked the door and the putrid air hit him solidly. He'd braved the smell, and found the corpse of a young man partially wrapped in a tarp. He hadn't been dead long, judging by the smell of fresh body wastes that had awakened Alex. The body was a bloody mess, roughly cut with large chunks hacked out. _That was before he perfected his technique. Now he's got it down to an art. And that's when I figured out the best way to dispose of a corpse without leaving evidence._

Thinking of evidence snapped Alex out of the past and into his current predicament. James had called to tell him Adrian was in police custody. He wasn't surprised that his idiot brother got caught, but this made things complicated. Alex suppressed the urge to scream as he remembered his last warning to his stubborn brother. Dre never listened if he thought he knew better than anyone, not even to his older brother whom he looked to for direction. _That's why I do all of the planning and organizing. He can't be bothered to think of the details, and he always assumes that he's smarter than everyone so no one will figure out what he's done._

Alex himself had committed three of the murders. One was accidental when he'd used more force than usual to subdue a girl. The others occurred when he wanted to get a feel for his brother's work. Alex couldn't appreciate the feeling Dre derived from taking lives, but he always worked to please his brother regardless, especially since their parents died. But, being the meticulous person that he was, Alex ensured that he couldn't be connected to the murders outright. The only person that knew was Dre, and one thing he could count on Dre for was his loyalty. _As long as Dre keeps his mouth shut, they'll never know to look for me._

James' words rang in his head. "The FBI has this boy, a genius or something. He keeps saying that there are two people involved in these murders. I don't think the others believe him, but you better watch your back. Dre is going down, soon, and you don't want to go with him."

_What if they do decide to listen to the boy genius? Dre won't rat me out, but if he doesn't confess to everything they might continue investigating. If they dig deep enough they can connect me to him!_

That thought abruptly stopped him in his pacing. Though he was safe from a cursory investigation, he doubted his safety measures could hold up to intense scrutiny. Adrian's name was on the official listing for the house, but their parents' will deeded the house to both sons. The van and tools he used for the abductions could be traced to Dre, but there was always a chance that Alex had missed cleaning up a stray fingerprint or loose hair. The police knew about 15 or so murders that Dre committed, but if they got the idea to search the property more thoroughly, they would find Alex's bodies hidden among nearly two dozen or so of Adrian's. He'd tried to mimic Dre's style just in case the corpses were found, but an experienced examiner could find the differences. Any of these discoveries would lead back to Alex eventually.

_So I either have to find a way to get Dre to confess to everything and give him enough details to be believable, or I have to make sure that the police don't have a reason to keep looking._

He knew there was no way for him to get to Adrian without arousing suspicion, and he doubted that James fair any better. He would have to rely on what Dre already knew and hope that his lack of common sense would work in Alex's favor. The other option was to control the investigation somehow. He had no delusions about evidence tampering or anything along that line.

_If I can keep the kid quiet…_A light bulb flashed in Alex's brain. _That's it! I'll get to the kid; I'll make sure he doesn't convince the others to analyze the case any further. It's so simple!_

He smiled at the thought of grabbing the kid and threatening him into silence. _It won't be that easy, idiot! He's FBI, not just some random cop. You have to plan this out carefully._ He sat down at the coffee table and started jotting down ideas. It was obvious that he'd need some help; he didn't know anything about this FBI team or the genius agent. James could help with that. It quickly became apparent that he couldn't let the kid live either. Idle threats wouldn't be enough. That wouldn't be a problem for him as he had a surplus of strategies for dealing with troublesome people. _Which would be the best for this situation?_ He made brief notes of the most effective ideas that he'd found so far, and lists of supplies that would be needed.

After nearly an hour of plotting and considering options, he settled on two ideas that he could execute almost immediately. The supplies were easy to gather and almost impossible to track once he finished. Alex put in a phone call to James to arrange for getting the necessary information. James promised everything could be ready within the hour, and informed him that the Feds were returning home in a few hours. Alex reserved-with false identification-a red-eye flight to Virginia that would depart in two hours; a rental car would even be waiting at the airport. Everything was coming into place.


	6. Send the pain below

**Author's note: This chapter will catch us up to the present, which is where the first chapter began. Thanks to all who are still with me. Your encouragement has been so great.**

Send the pain below

**Two hours previous**

The three-hour trip passed uneventfully. Twenty minutes before landing, Reid started waking slightly and talking softly in his sleep. This led to a lively group discussion of Reid's inability to keep his mouth shut, even when injured and highly medicated. Garcia joined in on speakerphone, eager for an update on Reid's condition.

Finally, with just a few minutes left in the flight, Morgan attempted to wake Reid up fully. A couple of gently shakes, plus a light tap had little affect on Reid's level of consciousness. Emily went over to the couch and knelt down. Morgan noted the mischievous look she wore.

"What are you doing Em?"

"I have an idea," she replied with a grin. She leaned close to Reid's ear and spoke in a low, husky voice. "Wake up Spence. Time to get up baby."

Morgan clamped a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing loudly. JJ and Garcia giggled quietly.

When all she received was a flutter of eyes, Emily decided to try harder. She repeated her words in the same tone, but she added a gentle touch across his forehead and cheekbones. A flicker of eyelids and incoherent muttering were all she got for her efforts.

"I don't think it's working Em," Morgan said with barely-contained laughter.

"Oh yeah," she replied, "then it's time to bring out the big guns." She leaned forward more a lightly planted a soft kiss on the corner of his lips. His eyes half-opened at the touch, and flew open fully when he was that Emily was the source.

"Wha…?" came the sleepy, surprised voice as he tried to figure out what happened.

All of the team members were too busy laughing to answer him. He looked at all of them in foggy confusion as his brain slowly began booting to normal speed. He tried to rise into a sitting position, but his stiff left side caused him to wince in pain and remain lying down.

"What's going on," he asked? His voice, while still sleepy and slurred, was clearer and slightly angry at not knowing what was happening around him.

Morgan took pity on him. "We're about to land. I didn't want you to roll off the couch."

"Oh. We're about to land? I don't remember getting to the airport."

"Well you were knocked out," Emily said with a grin. "Until a few minutes ago, you were so quiet we had to keep checking to be sure you were breathing."

"But then you started talking, so we knew you were ok," Hotch added with a small smile. Everyone but Reid laughed again.

"Ha ha ha, you guys are hilarious. Laugh at the guy who got stabbed-that's just great."

"Come on guys, give my handsome injured genius a break," Garcia chimed in through the speaker.

"Oh, you'll be ok," Emily said, patting him lightly on the head as she returned to her seat for the descent.

"Come on, let's get you strapped in." Morgan helped Reid sit up, and fastened a belt around him before sitting on the couch next to him and buckling himself in. He noticed Reid was swaying slightly, and Morgan grabbed his upper arm to steady him.

"Are you ok, man?"

"Hm?" Reid turned to face him and blinked slowly a few times before responding. "What did you say?"

"I asked if you were ok."

"Yeah, I'm ok, just a little dizzy. I guess the pain meds are stronger than I thought when he gave them to me."

"What did he give you?" Hotch's tone and expression both showed slight concern.

"Non-narcotic," Reid replied quickly, "but the strongest dosage he felt was safe."

"So basically heavy duty Tylenol," Emily teased.

"Yeah, pretty much," Reid agreed.

"Is it helping ok," Rossi added from his corner of the plane?

"Yes, I'm just a little sore, and stiff."

"Good."

"I still think you should stay with someone for a day or two Reid," Hotch suggested.

"I'm sure I'll be ok Hotch. I promise to take it easy. I really want to go home."

"I understand that, I just think you might need a hand until you heal a little more. You're welcome at my house."

"Thanks, Hotch, but it's not necessary."

"Why don't you let me stay with you," Morgan asked? "I'd feel better knowing you aren't alone, all drugged up and one-armed."

"Really Morgan, I'll be ok. You don't have to look after me."

"I don't mind. I want to, at least for tonight, to be sure you don't have a bad reaction to the meds or any dizzy spells."

"Ok, I'll let you stay. Thanks," Reid relented. Secretly he was relieved; he'd wondered how he'd manage to get himself and his things home in this state.

"No problem," Morgan responded as he gave Reid's arm a gently squeeze. A couple of gentle bumps told him the plane was on the ground finally. Morgan gathered his bag along with Reid's before helping Reid slowly exit the jet. He left Reid under Hotch's watchful eye as he picked up his navy blue SUV from the parking garage. They loaded Reid in carefully, and then Morgan drove toward Reid's apartment. After a few minutes, he noticed that Reid's breathing seemed to be shallow and raspy. He turned to look at his friend, and nearly ran off the road at the sight of Reid's pale complexion and pain-filled eyes.

"Hey man, what's wrong?" Morgan suddenly wondered if taking him out of the hospital so soon was a good idea.

"Nothing…it's ok…" he grunted out. " I think the meds are wearing off now and my arm is throbbing…"

"Ok, well we're about 15 minutes from your place. Can you hang on until we get there and then you can take another dose?"

"Yeah…I'll be…ok," he managed through gritted teeth. Morgan wasn't convinced, but there wasn't much he could do right now anyway. After a tense drive with Morgan pushing the speed limit as much as he dared, the pair reached Reid's apartment building. Both were more than a little relieved. The trip upstairs was tedious, but they finally made it safely to Reid's apartment. Morgan got him settled on the couch and picked up the bag Dr. Richards gave Reid at the ER. He pulled out the sample pack and took it to the kitchen while he poured a glass of water. He then returned to the living room and sat next to Reid on the couch. Reid took the pills from his hand, but instead of swallowing them, he just looked at them curiously.

"What's up?" Morgan asked.

"Are these the only pills Dr. Richards put in there?"

"Yeah, I think so." He lifted the bag from the coffee table and checked it for pills. "There aren't any others here. Why?"

"Because these pills are for the infection, they aren't painkillers."

"Really?" Morgan flipped through the release papers to find the names of the medicines Reid was supposed to have. "Huh, you're right. I guess he didn't give you the pain killers," Morgan said with sympathy in his voice.

"Great," Reid replied with a groan. He laid his head back against the couch and closed his eyes.

"Isn't there a late-night pharmacy a few miles from here?"

"Yeah, it's ten minutes or so away."

"Well, why don't you stay put and I'll go get the prescription filled there. I'll bring back some food too, so you won't have to take it on an empty stomach."

"You don't mind?"

"Of course not, I hate that you're in so much pain right now. Will you be ok while I'm gone?"

"I'll survive," he responded unconvincingly.

"That's good enough for now," Morgan said as he stood up. "Why don't you lie down while I'm gone and rest? Then maybe you'll feel up to eating when I get back."

"Ok," Reid murmured wearily. Morgan helped him shift positions as carefully as possible. He noticed that Reid was nearly asleep already as he gathered his keys and the prescription.

_I hope he gets some good rest while I'm gone._


	7. A touch of brutal pain

**Author's note: I'll just say that the fun begins in this chapter. You can take that however you need to.**

_**A touch of brutal pain**_

If Alex was good at anything, it was planning and being patient. Waiting around for Agent Morgan to leave was no problem for him. He reviewed the file James gave him for the third time; there was no such thing as being overly prepared for this type of endeavor. Having arrived well in advance of the FBI team, he'd taken his time to drive around the area near Agent Reid's apartment building to take stock of what resources were around should he need them.

Alex leaned forward and stretched his stiff shoulders. He cast his eyes around the nearly deserted street. Seeing no one in sight, he decided to get take a risk and collect a little more crucial information. He casually walked to Agent Morgan's SUV and peered into the dark windows. He didn't dare try the door in case the alarm was set. The backseat was empty except for a few water bottles and two duffle bags. The bags were different enough that he felt it safe to assume that one belonged to each agent. _So if he left them both here, he must be coming back to the car for them eventually._

He moved to the front of the vehicle and saw a pile of papers lying on the passenger seat, the two on top appearing to be prescriptions. _This could be good news! If he's going out to fill these before he goes back to the apartment, that will take him at least fifteen minutes to get to the closest pharmacy. Assuming there are no lines or traffic to slow him down, that gives me thirty minutes alone with Agent Reid! _The thought brought a happy smile to his face. _Plenty of time!_

He was suddenly grateful that he'd come up with two different plans. The first required a bit more time and mess, but death came quickly. The second plan was fairly quick and clean, but death took a lot more time. Either would work for him, but he was happy to not have to get his hands dirty this time. _Less evidence to risk leaving behind._

Alex glanced at his watch again; nearly twenty minutes had passed since the agents' arrival. He let out a deep, impatient sigh and decided to stay in the fresh air while he waited. He leaned on the wall next to the front door of the building and lit a cigarette. As he smoked it slowly, he rechecked the pockets of his cargo pants to ensure that the necessary kits were in place. Finally, he patted the inside pocket of his jacket and smiled as he felt the tiny, cool vial inside. The cigarette grew smaller.

Finally, heavy footsteps caught Alex's attention, and he glanced up slightly to see Agent Morgan hurrying to his SUV. _Finally! Alone at last! _He couldn't hold back the slight predatory grin that crossed his lips as Agent Morgan headed in the direction of the pharmacy. As soon as the vehicle was out of sight, Alex entered the building and walked briskly to the elevators. As he waited, a couple came up next to him and watched the elevator come to the bottom floor. _How fortunate. _The elevators required a code to be entered along with the floor number as a security measure. He'd acquired a generic override code that should work, but he'd hoped that someone else would be going up at the same time. He smiled at the couple as the three of them entered. Alex deliberately stood in the far corner, allowing the man to take control of the elevator. He turned to Alex with a friendly smile and asked which floor he would like.

"Four please," Alex responded politely. He could really turn on the charm when necessary. It was something his brother never learned, but the skill served Alex well on numerous occasions. It certainly didn't hurt that Alex had the looks to back up his words. Alex exited the elevator on the fourth floor, and he took the stairs to his final destination-the sixth floor-to avoid detection on security cameras. _Just in case. _

He walked briskly to number 612 and paused outside the door. He couldn't ask for a better location; the apartment was at the end of the corridor and around a slight curve, hiding the doorway from immediate view of any noisy neighbors. He removed the first kit from his pants pocket and arranged his tools on the floor. Then he put on the soft leather gloves he'd picked up from a thrift store; they could never be traced back to him. After a quick glance at his watch, he pulled out the special toy James had set him up with. The device was so expensive and high-tech that his fingers tingled just holding it. The tiny remote control could deactivate any installed alarm system for five minutes before the system would reset, giving him ample time to break in and disable the alarm by hand.

He pressed the buttons on the remote and waited for the green indicator lights to turn on. Once it was safe, he retrieved his other unique item from its place on the floor. The small key was made of a moldable plastic that could conform to the inside of most locks of a similar size, allowing a customized key to be made as needed. Alex worked swiftly to unlock both the doorknob and the deadbolt. He was confident that the chain would be off so that Agent Morgan could return. He collected all of his tools and carefully pushed the door open, holding the knob to maintain his silence. He slipped into the dark hallway and slowly closed the door. Instead of closing it all of the way, he removed his shoes and set them next to the door, both preventing it from opening and allowing him to move stealthily across the wood floor.

After cutting the wires to the alarm panel near the door, Alex began his careful pursuit of his prey.

* * *

Reid shifted carefully on the couch, trying not to disturb his injury anymore than necessary. He pried his eyes open and looked around the dimly lit living room. He thought a shuffling noise had awakened him, but now the room was silent. His eyes roamed the area checking for anything abnormal, but, seeing nothing, he started drifting back to his fuzzy world of pain and exhaustion. The sudden movement took him completely by surprise.

A hand covered his mouth while simultaneously a heavy weight pressed into the couch, straddling him and holding down his good arm. His eyes flew open in panic, but his terrified scream was muffled into a mere exhalation. Reid looked into cold, angry blue eyes-eyes that were vaguely familiar from somewhere. It was then he realized the man on top of him was speaking.

"Well Agent Reid, we haven't had the pleasure of meeting, but I believe you know my brother, Adrian." the man spoke with a snarl, both his expression and voice conveying extreme rage. The low, threatening tone sent chills down Reid's spine. _Adrian? Who's Adrian? How do I know him?_

The confusion must have been evident on his face as the man continued speaking. "You know, my brother that you shot this morning. He is ok, by the way, and sends his regards." He punctuated his words by pressing down on Reid's injured shoulder, causing him to yell in pain against the fingers that stifled his voice. _Oh, that Adrian! This is his brother? Then I was right about there being two killers? This is bad._

Adrian's brother wasn't giving him a chance to respond though. He was busy adjusting his position, moving Reid's right arm so that the man's knee was pinning down his hand. His left arm was effectively trapped in the sling, and the man was sitting low on his hips, so using his legs wasn't an option. He was stuck. He watched the man in wide-eyed horror. With his now free hand, the man began to take off his belt, talking all the while.

"My brother was stupid enough to get caught by you, but I won't follow in his footsteps. All of our hard work- my hard work- and planning won't be thrown away by some damn FBI genius that doesn't know when to keep his mouth shut!

Reid saw the belt coming toward his throat, and his panic rose swiftly as he shook his head frantically. His movements did nothing to slow the advance of the leather that encircled his neck. He tried to gasp for breath as the belt tightened against his airway, but the hand blocking his mouth prevented any significant intake of air. Finally, the man pulled his hand away and Reid gulped as much air as he could. The man stared down at Reid with a smirk that made his skin crawl.

"Now you can't scream, can you?" He asked with a satisfied tone. He demonstrated Reid's inability by slapping him hard across the face and digging his knee into Reid's trapped hand. "It's too bad my brother isn't here to see this. He would love it. Thanks to you he isn't here so I have to enjoy it for him. Of course, for him this would just be the beginning, but I don't have to tell you about his hobby. I'm sure you know all of the details."

By the end of the monologue Reid was hyperventilating as the minimal oxygen began to make him lightheaded. He heard the spiteful voice continuing to mock him as gray spots danced in his vision. "…It's a shame no one will ever know that you were right…too bad they didn't listen to you sooner…they won't be able to catch me…"

The voice faded with the light in the room, and the silence overtook Reid along with the darkness.


	8. It's only fear that makes you run

**Author's note: I'm neither a physician nor a chemist. I did do the necessary research to support this chapter, but any mistakes are mine entirely. Just know that this is all possible and I'm not taking a creative license.**

_**It's only fear that makes you run**_

Alex grinned as Agent Reid**'**s eyes glazed over and he passed out. He reached into his other pants pocket and removed his second kit, which contained a syringe and a new needle. He fixed the syringe, and then carefully removed the tiny vial from his jacket. This was part of the reason he needed the gloves: the poisonous liquid could be absorbed through the skin so he couldn't take the chance of spilling it on his hands. Alex filled the syringe with the full dose-he'd actually only acquired a small dose but he had been assured it would be more than enough to be fatal.

With one hand he lifted the belt slightly to reveal a vein, and he deftly injected the contents of the syringe using his other hand. The entire procedure took less than a minute. A glance at his watch told him he was quickly running out of time. He gathered up all of his paraphernalia and walked around the living room, pulling books off of shelves and pushing papers to the floor. Alex spent nearly two minutes faking a robbery before he hurried to the front door. He stopped long enough to put on his shoes and make the door look as if it had been picked in a more traditional manner. A peek into the hallway told him the coast was clear, and he casually walked into the corridor after closing the door gently behind him.

He took the stairs all the way to the lobby and exited through a side entrance. He took a longer way around the building before crossing the street to his car. Alex hurried into his car and locked the doors behind him, checking the street for signs that anyone was on to him. The street was just as empty as it had been when he left. With a satisfied smile he sat back in his seat to await the arrival of Agent Morgan. His better judgment told him that he should go ahead and leave, but his curiosity made him sit and watch the apartment building. _I'll leave when the police show up. By then it'll be too late anyway!_

* * *

Morgan hurried down the hallway to Reid's apartment. The trip to the pharmacy had taken less time than he thought, but he hated leaving Reid in pain any longer than necessary. As he pulled out his key to the door, he glanced at his watch. Twenty-five minutes. _Not too bad considering the distance. Fortunately there wasn't any traffic or hold-ups along the way. _He entered the dark foyer, pausing only long enough to lock the door behind him and set the alarm. Morgan moved quickly into the dimly lit living room and slowed his pace as he saw the sleeping form of his friend stretched out on the couch._ He must be asleep-he's never that still. _Morgan didn't want to wake him up, but he knew Reid wouldn't sleep long if he was hurting. His decision made, he called Reid's name as he approached the couch. He frowned when Reid didn't respond, but as he got close he saw something that made him stop in his tracks.

Reid was lying on his back on the couch, a thin belt wrapped tightly around his neck. Even in the minimal lighting Morgan could see that his skin was pale and his lips were blue. Panic overrode all thoughts as he practically jumped on top of Reid and fumbled with the buckle on the belt. He pulled it so forcefully that the large buckle flew up and smacked him in the eye. Morgan barely noticed as he felt Reid for a pulse and put his ear to Reid's lips to listen for breathing. He nearly fainted in relief as he heard tiny, wheezing breaths come from his friend. He shook Reid and pushed on his chest to make him breathe deeper. "Reid! Wake up man! Come on Reid, wake up!" Morgan shoved his hands below Reid's ribcage, forcing him to inhale.

Reid's eyes flew open and met Morgan's. The terror clearly evident in them nearly knocked Morgan over. He tried to speak but all he managed to do was gasp for breath. "Hey, hey! Calm down Reid. Just breathe man. Just breathe!" Morgan held Reid's face to keep his eyes-which seemed to keep drifting-focused on his face. After a moment Reid was calmer, but he was still breathing shallowly. Morgan climbed off of the couch and turned on the nearby lamp. He was shocked and frightened to see that Reid's skin, though unusually pale, had a slightly pink tinge to it. The fact that Reid was cold and clammy to the touch made that discovery even more alarming.

Morgan pulled out his cell phone and called for an ambulance from the base hospital. "Hang on Reid, I'm getting help for you. It'll be ok man." _I'm not quite sure who I'm trying to convince here!_ He sat back down on the couch next to Reid and held his hand. Then he speed dialed Hotch and barely got his sentences out coherently, finally just ordering Hotch to get there quickly and to call for police and a CSU. He then turned his attention back to Reid who was barely conscious and seizing slightly. Morgan knew for sure he'd have fainted if he hadn't been sitting down already. His basic first aid knowledge failed him as he studied his friend. The only thing he could think of was CPR, but Reid was breathing so that didn't help. He tried desperately to remember anything that could be useful, but he settled for rubbing Reid's wrist and murmuring meaningless words of comfort. The pounding on the door sent him jumping two feet in the air before he realized it was the paramedics.

Morgan tripped over the coffee table and stumbled down the dark hallway to fling open the door, nearly ripping it off of it's hinges. He yelled at the paramedics in wide-eyed panic as he pulled them inside the apartment. "My friend, he's having trouble breathing! I don't…I can't…he's not getting better!" He found it hard to form complete sentences as he ran into the living room followed closely by the two Marine medics. He stopped at the couch and allowed them to pass.

"Do you know what happened here, Agent?" one medic asked while the other checked Reid's pulse.

"I don't know. I came home to find him with this wrapped around his throat." He held up the discarded belt as he spoke. "I removed it but he still didn't catch his breath. He kept drifting off and it looked like he had a seizure." Morgan's rapid discourse left him winded, but he didn't miss the worried glances exchanged between the medics. "What? What do you think? What is wrong?" The panic was coming back in full force.

"We can't be sure," the second medic stated as he pulled out an intubation kit. "I have a hunch but there isn't anything we can do except intubate him and get him to the hospital quickly."

"What do you think it is?" Morgan yelled frantically as he paced the floor near the coffee table. Neither answered his question as they relayed information to each other and to the base emergency room. Once the intubation was finished, the first medic pumped air into Reid's lungs while the second moved the coffee table and pulled the stretcher close. They efficiently transferred him, and then one medic turned to Morgan.

"Agent, did you touch him at all?" The tone of voice sent lines of fear down Morgan's spine.

"Yes, of course I did. Why?"

"I need you to go wash your hands in hot water. Now! Use hot water and a lot of soap. Go!"

Morgan didn't pause to ask questions, but his worry and confusion grew. Less than a minute later he returned. The medics had already stripped Reid completely and bagged his clothes and sling. He was covered with a blanket on the stretcher while both medics hurried to the kitchen and washed their hands thoroughly but quickly. They started out the door with the stretcher while Morgan trailed behind them. He pulled the door closed but left it unlocked for Hotch's arrival.

"What's going on here? What's with the decontamination?" Morgan demanded an answer as the medics used an emergency key for the elevator. They waited until the elevator doors closed before responding to Morgan's frantic inquiries.

"We think he may have been poisoned, possibly cyanide. We can't know for sure until he gets to the hospital, but it can enter through the skin so we have to eliminate any chance of contaminating him further or ourselves."

_Cyanide poisoning? How is that possible? How can he even still be alive if that's the case?_

"I thought cyanide was instantly fatal." Morgan's voice clearly showed his fear and confusion.

"It can be, depending on the dose and the method of exposure. It's too soon to know anything for sure, but ensuring proper oxygen flow is vital at this point." He indicated his partner, who was continually pumping air into Reid. Morgan noticed that Reid's lips were still blue and his eyes were closed. To Morgan's horror, Reid's body started seizing again, more violently than before. The medic stopped administering the air and instead held Reid still to avoid him causing anymore harm to himself. The seizure passed after a minute, and the medic went back to the oxygen. Finally the elevator arrived at the ground floor, and all three hurried out to the waiting ambulance. The driver opened the back door and helped load the stretcher inside. The two medics climbed in with Reid, and the driver turned to Morgan.

"I'm sorry Agent, but there isn't enough room for you to ride. You'll have to follow us to NHCQ."

Morgan nodded, unable to think of a proper response. He stood rooted in place as he watched the ambulance speed out of the parking lot. He didn't even realize that he hadn't moved until Hotch ran up to him.

"What happened, Morgan? Where's Reid?" The worried, breathless question snapped Morgan back to attention.

"I…I don't know what happened Hotch. I came back and found…I don't know how it happened, who could have done this…he could have died!_" _

"Morgan, slow down," Hotch commanded as he placed his hands on his agent's shoulders. "Tell me everything as we walk." He started toward the lobby, but Morgan didn't follow.

"We have to go to the hospital. They're taking him to the base. They suspect cyanide poisoning, Hotch! We have to go with him!"

The news stunned Hotch momentarily, but he quickly made a decision. "You wait here for the CSU Morgan and I'll drive to the hospital…" he held up a hand to forestall the protests. "You are the only one who has a clue about what happened. You can tell them what you know and maybe they'll find something to help the doctors. Besides, I'm Reid's emergency contact so you won't get anywhere without me there. Call the others and have them meet you here. Once CSU is done you can all join me, unless I call for you sooner." There was no need to say why Hotch would call earlier. The unspoken implication was enough to make both agents sick.

Hotch started toward the parking lot, but he turned back to Morgan. "Derek, wait in the lobby until PD gets here, just in case whoever did this is still around."

Morgan nodded his agreement and hurried inside. Hotch sprinted to his SUV to follow the ambulance transporting his agent.

* * *

Three long hours later Morgan, Emily, and Rossi trudged wearily into HNCQ's emergency care. JJ and Garcia were still in route to the hospital with food for everyone. None of them could believe that they were in this position for the second time in less than a day. Morgan wanted to run in issuing orders, demanding answers, and waving his badge in front of the appropriate personnel, but his exhaustion prevented him from doing so. He settled for a heavy sigh and a speedy walk toward the front desk. Before he reached the desk, a man in a suit with military decoration approached the group.

"Are you the BAU team here for Agent Reid?"

"Yes we are," Rossi answered as he stepped forward. "Were you expecting us?"

"Lt. Daniel Fox. I've already spoken with Agent Hotchner, who informed me of your impending arrival. I'm here to escort you to him. I believe the doctor has already spoken with him."

"Thank you," Emily replied as the group headed down the hallway.

Lt. Fox opened the door to a small waiting room and gestured for them to enter. Their anxiety level grew as each one caught sight of their normally composed supervisor sitting slumped over with his head in his hands. They practically tripped over each other to stand near Hotch. Morgan's voice shook as he spoke with rapidly increasing volume.

"Hotch! What happened? Is he ok? Please tell me he's ok!" Rossi's hand on his shoulder stopped the furious flow of words.

"Aaron? What is the news?" Rossi somehow managed to speak calmly yet firmly. Hotch looked up at them with tired, concerned eyes. He let out a heavy sigh and indicated the chairs in the room. Once all were seated, he filled them in.

"They still suspect cyanide poisoning. The blood tests won't be back for several hours so all they have to go on are symptoms. He had a couple of bad seizures on the way here. They found an injection site on his neck; we're estimating that the belt was probably covering it," he glanced at Morgan as he spoke.

"I thought cyanide is usually fatal. How could he be poisoned with it and still be alive?" Emily's face showed a mixture of disbelief and fear.

"The doctors think the solution was diluted somehow. There's no way to know until the lab results come in, but time is critical so they've started treating him for it anyway."

"What kind of treatments are there for something like this?" Morgan asked as he stood and stalked around the room in frustration.

"They started administering pure oxygen in the ambulance and he's been on it ever since. There are a few antidotes approved to treat cyanide poisoning, and they're hoping that these will work. The process for using the antidotes is rather difficult and can be dangerous if the diagnosis isn't right. He'll have to be admitted to an ICU once the treatment is complete." He paused to let the information sink in before continuing. "Even with the quick response and proper treatment, he could still have serious complications as a result of the oxygen deprivation or from the poison itself."

"What kind of complications are we talking about here?" Emily asked worriedly.

"It's hard to say for sure. It depends on a lot of factors. Problems from moderate exposure can be headaches, convulsions, low blood pressure, respiratory arrest, comas, brain damage, even death." Loud gasps echoed through the room. "If he had an acute exposure it's unlikely he'd still be alive, but even a mild dose can be fatal if the right conditions occur."

"So we basically have to wait and see?" Morgan growled.

"Yes, that's all we can do for now. It can take weeks for secondary effects to take place, so even if all goes well now, he'll have to be monitored for several months."

Silence filled the room as the weight of Hotch's words settled heavily in the air.


	9. There is no place safe

_There is no place safe_

**One week later**

The sound of chatter and laughter filled the air. Reid sat propped up on Hotch's couch watching the flurry around him. Though he wished he could take a more active part, he was silently grateful that he didn't have to help Morgan, Hotch, and Rossi maneuver his large dresser through the front door and up the staircase. The grumbling and mild cursing that accompanied the activity told him they weren't having an easy time.

He cast a glance toward the dining room where Emily, JJ, and Garcia were sorting, ironing, folding, and hanging his clothes. Covering the floor was a growing pile of items they deemed "unacceptable for someone with his level of hotness," and they intended to replace them with more suitable clothing. The idea worried him a little but there wasn't much he could do, nor did he really want to stop them.

He patted the sling on his arm absently as he thought over what he knew about recent events. He was very weak and tired, and under strict orders to stay on bed rest for a while. His friends had to monitor him closely for a few weeks for any changes or developments, and he'd have regular appointments at the hospital for check-ups for the next six months. All in all, he figured he was pretty fortunate to survive as unscathed as he had. The occasional throb in his shoulder or wave of nausea served as reminders of how close he'd come.

After three days in ICU, and being administered a full battery of tests, the doctors moved Reid to a regular hospital room. The exams performed showed no signs of permanent damage or side effects, but some could appear later on. He'd managed to escape major brain injury, mostly thanks to the paramedics' quick assessment and the risky treatment at the hospital. Tests by his friends, however, revealed minor short term memory loss which the doctor said could remain indefinitely. Reid had no memory whatsoever of the attack in his apartment, and only a vague flash of being stabbed from earlier in the day. That brief memory taken out of context was quite terrifying to him, and he'd awoken every few hours in a panic. The doctors assured that this would fade with time, but his friends made sure he was never alone to be safe. He also remembered no details of the case or of the time spent chasing Adrian Matthews. A few other recent events were fuzzy as well, but all things considered these were minor problems.

Minor save for the fact that there were no clues as to who attacked Reid, and as he was the only eyewitness, it would be helpful if he could remember something-anything-to help the investigation. Because of the lack of leads, the team decided for Reid that he couldn't stay in his apartment, nor did they want him to be alone for an extended period of time. They didn't know if the attacker knew that Reid survived, or if he or she would return to finish the job. That is why the entire team swarmed into Hotch's house on Friday afternoon to move Reid's things in. Garcia picked him up from the base hospital earlier in the morning, and he'd spent the day confined to the couch as his team members argued, laughed, and joked around him. It made for a bit of a boring day for him, but Reid couldn't help but feel loved and appreciated as he "supervised" all of their hard work in his behalf. Besides, anything was better than sitting around the hospital.

"Hey Sweet cheeks!" Garcia's enthusiastic tone broke into his thoughts. He looked toward the dining room to see all three women sporting his reject clothes. They were laughing hysterically, and he couldn't help but join in at the sight.

"I never realized I had so many bad clothes," he commented.

"We did!" They yelled simultaneously. "Don't worry; we'll get you some nice new things!" Emily added with a wink.

"I think I should worry, but there isn't much I can do about it right now anyway."

"True," JJ replied, "so just sit back and take it easy. We'll do all the work."

"That sounds good to me," he responded, and laid back on the arm of the couch with a pillow propping up his injured arm. More laughter floated in from the dining room, and a smile graced his lips at the thought of what they were scheming for him. A flurry of noise and clattering feet told him they were headed upstairs with the approved clothes. Bits of conversation reached his ears as the team members reunited upstairs and the men saw the women's "outfits."

His feeling of contentment was interrupted by a loud knock on the door. He glanced toward the door, then toward the stairs as he waited for someone to come answer it. After a few moments it was obvious that they hadn't heard the noise. His vocal cords were still bruised from strangulation, so his voice didn't reach the group upstairs. The knock grew more insistent, so he struggled to his feet and slowly crossed to the door. Slightly breathless, he pulled the door open to see an annoyed-looking delivery man holding an armload of pizza boxes. The man's expression softened as he took in Reid's sling and bruises.

"I'm sorry, everyone else is upstairs." Reid said apologetically.

"That's ok, I'll just bring these in for you," the man answered kindly. He followed Reid to the dining room and set the boxes down on the table.

"Thanks. How much do we owe you?" Reid cast his eyes around for his wallet or someone's checkbook.

"47.50."

"Ok, hold on just a second." Hotch's wallet lay on the counter in the kitchen, and Reid raided it for the money plus tip. He escorted the delivery man out, and paused at the front door to ring the bell several times. A minute later Morgan and Hotch appeared in the hallway and walked toward the door.

"Over here," Reid called softly to them from his seat at the table.

"Reid! What are you doing up?" Hotch demanded as he entered the dining room with Morgan right behind him.

"Somebody had to answer the door," he replied calmly. "I borrowed the money from you Hotch; your wallet was the closest."

"That's fine. You should have called us, Reid. You aren't supposed to be up."

"Yeah, man, the doctor will have our heads if you are too active," Morgan added firmly.

"Sorry, I tried to call you but my voice isn't strong enough yet."

"Ok, then, that's acceptable," Hotch responded with a smile. "Now that you're up, do you want to eat here or go back to the couch?"

"Um, where is everyone else sitting?" _I really don't want to be alone anymore. _

Morgan must have understood why he asked the question, because he said that they'd all sit in the living room. Hotch gathered the plates and drinks from the kitchen while Morgan helped Reid back to the couch and called the others down. Once everyone was settled with food, Reid cleared his throat and addressed his friends.

"Ok, you all promised to fill me in on the case once I was home. This is home for now, so what's been going on?" The uneasy glances exchanged around him told him things weren't looking good. After a few moments, Hotch started telling him details.

"The Unsub tried to stage a robbery. But we saw through it because no burglar travels with his own liquid cyanide, and nothing obvious had been removed from your apartment. CSU found no trace evident; tests for prints, hair, foreign DNA all came up empty."

Garcia jumped into the story. "I've spent every spare minute scouring the security footage from the building and surrounding areas, looking for anything that might give us a clue.So far I've found a few possibles that I'm running facial recognition software on to see if we get any hits, but I'm not sure we will get a positive ID."

"Whoever the Unsub was, he or she knew exactly what to do to avoid detection," Rossi added solemnly. "He's covered his tracks thoroughly, which of course points us to a deliberate attack on you. We've yet to find a motive."

"This doesn't mean we're giving up. We're pulling out all of the stops man. We'll find this SOB eventually." Morgan's voice showed his frustration and determination.

"But for now we have no ideas?" Reid asked.

"Well, no, but don't worry Reid. We'll figure this out," Emily reassured him as she patted him on the knee. "After all, we are the best." They all smiled at her words despite the anxiety lingering in the atmosphere.

"And while we're figuring it out, you have a wonderful group of sitters who refuse to allow you to get hurt anymore!" JJ added cheerfully. Reid rolled his eyes exaggeratedly at her statement.

"Great, that's just what I needed!"

"Actually darling it seems to be," Garcia pointed out. "You manage to find trouble when left to your own devices."

"Hey! This wasn't my doing!"

"We know that, but for now you have six shadows just in case." Morgan elbowed him gently to emphasize his point.

Reid met the eyes of each of his friends. He could see their concern for him as well as their resolve to solve this case no matter what it took. Even with the apprehension tickling his mind, he'd never felt safer than he did now in the company of his team. He gave a small smile.

"Well, it could be a lot worse."

"Oh really?" Hotch asked curiously. "How's that?"

"I could have had to move in with Morgan."

* * *

Jeremiah Matthews studied his reflection in the steamy bathroom mirror. The sandy blond hair didn't compliment his blue eyes as well as his chocolate brown had, but the sacrifice was necessary. Still, he'd always prided himself on his looks, and he hated to compromise the advantages they'd given him. _Not that I really look that bad; it's just different. I guess I'll have to get used to it._

He let out a heavy sigh and exited the bathroom. There were several changes he had to adjust to, not the least of which being his name change. It was ironic, he thought, that after all of these years he finally shared his brother's last name, and now he couldn't contact him at all. He couldn't risk the police monitoring his brother's visitors and connecting him to the attack on the Fed. Somehow-he was sure he didn't need to know how-James found out that the damn genius had survived. Jeremiah nearly exploded until James explained that he had no memory of the case, the murder attempt, or any surrounding events. Though it wasn't his desired outcome, at least the connection to him was broken.

Still it was much better to be cautious. That was why he'd packed his bags and flown out of DC the afternoon following the attack. James had connections in Boston, so Jeremiah took up residence in a downtown apartment until he could set up more permanent stakes. For now he just had to lay low and make sure he didn't attract any unwanted attention. It angered him to feel restricted, but his unlimited freedom was a worthwhile price to pay to avoid death row for murder. Besides that, he had money, connections, and time. He was sure he could find ways to keep himself occupied.

**Author's note: Yes, this is really the end. I wasn't ready to get rid of Alex yet. Before anyone asks, I do have plans for a sequel in the works, but it could be awhile before I finish it. In the meantime, I have an alternate ending (I know, I hate them too but I had to do it) that I'll post separately if anyone wants to read it. **

**Thank you all for your support of this story. The response was better than I ever expected.**

**Author's note 2: Yes LT, you were right! ;)**


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